Shirley, James · published 1635 · first performed or written 1631 [licensed for stage, May 4] (Annals) tragedy · Queen Henrietta Maria's Men T0 Court life: dukes, favour and honour typicality 0.80 · 525 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T0: duke, lord, duchess, love, court, madam, prince, honour, grace, lady.
Do you talk wisely then? an excellent pattern As she now stands for her own Alabaster: Or may she not be kept from putrefaction, And be the very figure on her Tomb: Cannot thy tears and mine preserve her Florio? If we want brine, a thousand Virgins shall Weep every day upon her, and themselves In Winter, leaning round about her Monument, Being moist creatures, stiffen with the cold, And freeze into so many white supporters. But we lose time, I charge thee by thy lo To this pale Relic, be instructed by me, Not to thy danger; some revenge must be, And I am lost already; if thou fall, Who shall survive to give us Funeral? Petruchio? My Lord. thouart now my servant. I ever was in heart your humblest vassal. thouart faithful, I must cherish thy desert, I shortly shall reward it, very shortly; Next morning must salute me Duke; the Sun And I must rise together. I shall pray Your glory may outshine him in your Florence, Apd when he sets, we may enjoy your Sun-beame. 'tis handsome flattery, and becomes a Courtier. I flatter not my Lord. Then thouart a fool: No Music to a Great man chimes so sweetly: And men must thrive, come hither, how many Hast thou killed? But one my Lord. But one? And I must owe My life to your Lordship, I had been hanged else. But one? wait at the door, he is Not fit to kill a Duke, whose hand is guilty But of a single murder; or at least Not fit alone to act it: I ha' been Practised already, and though no man see't, Nor scarce the eye of Heaven, yet every day I kill a Prince, appear thou Tragic witness. Which though it bleed not, I may boast a Murder: Here first the Duke was painted to the life: But with this Pencil to the death: I love My brain for the invention, and thus Confirmed, dare trust my resolution. I did suspect his youth, and beauty might Win some compassion when I came to kill him: Or the remembrance that he is my Kinsman, Might thrill my blood: or something in his Title, Might give my hand repulse, and startle Nature: But thus I have armed myself against all pity, That when I come to strike, my poniard may Through all his charms as confidently wound him, As thus I stab his Picture, and stare on it. methinks the Duke should feel me now: is not His soul acquainted; can he less than tremble When I lift up my arm to wound his counterfeit? Witches can persecute the lives of whom They hate, when they torment their senseless figures, And stick the waxen model full of pins. Can any stroke of mine carry less spell To wound his heart, sent with as great a malice? He smiles, he smiles upon me: I will dig Thy wanton eyes out, and supply the dark And hollow Cells with two pitch burning Tapers: Then place thee Porter in some Charnel house To light the Coffins in. My Lord. The Duke's not come already.
seed 43: T0 · seed 44: T0 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Doe you talke wisely then? an excellent patterne As she now stands for her owne Alablaster: Or may she not be kept from putrifaction, And be the very figure on her Tombe: Cannot thy teares and mine preserve her Florio? If we want brine, a thousand Virgins shall Weepe every day upon her, and themselves In Winter, leaning round about her Monument, Being moist creatures, stiffen with the cold, And freeze into so many white supporters. But we loose time, I charge thee by thy lo To this pale Relique, be instructed by me, Not to thy danger; some revenge must be, And I am lost alreadie; if thou fall, Who shall survive to give us Funerall? Petruchio? My Lord. Th'art now my servant. I ever was in heart your humblest vassll. Th'art faithfull, I must cherish thy desert, I shortly shall reward it, very shortly; Next morning must salute me Duke; the Sunne And I must rise together. I shall pray Your glory may out-shine him in your Florence, Apd when he sets, we may enjoy your Sun-beame. Tis hansome flattery, and becomes a Courtier▪ J flatter not my Lord. Then th'art a foole: No Musicke to a Great man chimes so sweetly: And men must thrive, come hither, how many Hast thou killd? But one my Lord. But one? And J must owe My life to your Lordship, I had beene hang'd else. But one? waite at the doore, he is Not fit to kill a Duke, whose hand is guiltie But of a single murder; or at least Not fit alone to act it: J ha beene Practis'd already, and though no man see't, Nor scarse the eye of Heaven, yet every day I kill a Prince, appeare thou Tragicke witnesse. Which though it bleed not, I may boast a Murder: Here first the Duke was painted to the life: But with this Pencill to the death: I love My braine for the invention, and thus Confirm'd, dare trust my resolution. I did suspect his youth, and beautie might Winne some compassion when J came to kill him: Or the remembrance that he is my Kinsman, Might thrill my blood: or something in his Title, Might give my hand repulse, and startle Nature: But thus J have arm'd my selfe against all pittie, That when J come to strike, my Ponyard may Through all his charmes as confidently wound him, As thus J stab his Picture, and stare on it. Me thinkes the Duke should feele me now: is not His soule acquainted; can he lesse then tremble When J lift up my arme to wound his counterfeit? Witches can persecute the lives of whom They hate, when they torment their sencelesse figures, And sticke the waxen modell full of pinnes. Can any stroke of mine carrie lesse spell To wound his heart, sent with as great a malice? He smiles, he smiles upon me: J will digge Thy wanton eyes out, and supply the darke And hollow Cells with two pitch burning Tapers: Then place thee Porter in some Charnell house To light the Coffins in. My Lord. The Duke's not come alreadie.